Fat Ass Corporations
by SolidusSnake00
Summary: It was only 4 months ago, but now, Cartman rules the world, bringing communsim, and monarchy to America. Can Stan, and Kyle defeat him? This document contains some foul language, viewer disgression is advised. Please review. Enjoy. I do not own South Park
1. Conference Meeting

It wasn't long ago when we where still acting like kids. When we where still playing, laughing, and having a good time. I never thought that this would change so fast. God, it makes so melancholy just to be thinking about those days. What happened? Why?

Now we, Stan and I, are in 5th grade. Those days of relaxation, and peace are gone. Not due to the new grade, the new class, and teacher, but what happened right before. To those reading this piece of history, as I like to put it, here's the tale.

Last year, I had been friends with Kenny McCormick, Stan Marsh, and Eric Cartman. Right after 4th grade, just to put it in simple terms, the fat ass, Cartman, had left with his mom down to some convention in LA. Shortly after, several men in black came to his house, and what did they give him? His own goddamn corporation to make television shows based on his life in South Park. Coincidently, Kenny fell into a coma, and Cartman decided to film the incident. Several days later, Kenny's body was never found.

Of course that was only the tip of the iceberg. Eric, he wanted power, he wanted control, and that's what he got. In just two months, Eric had taken over large corporations like Wal-Mart, and McDonalds. Even worse, he led the economy even lower than it was then. He spent huge sums of money on golden statues (of him), and pretty soon, he took over the government. Cartman governed all aspects of life, claiming divine power, and bringing communism to America.

There where efforts to bring him down, but the military was at a disadvantage, they didn't know Cartman's style. He slaughtered the whole U.S. army, enslaving many survivors.

And here we are today, at a school ran by Cartman, at a redneck mountain town that was once ours, now, only his. That was why Stan began the resistance. He started by recruiting kids in South Park, lying low, and waiting. Then we went global, gaining about 3,000 extra supporters. Only problem was that they were all kids. Stan's problem was that he couldn't trust adults anymore. He began thinking that way since the Kenny's body went missing. Only Wendy could cheer him, but that wasn't even enough.

Many ask how are we going to defeat Eric, many ask if are we strong enough? My answer has always been I don't know. The truth is, I think Cartman's actually done some pretty cool things since he destroyed the government. There is no longer a separation between poor, and rich, because everyone can't make much money anymore, and oddly, Eric has achieved world peace. Eric also made cool things that many thought could never exist. For example, a small sample of his inventions are, hover cars, androids, PS4, Xbox 720, NES, virtual reality, and intergalactic travel.

Although Cartman has provided a safe ground for humanity, he has suppressed human emotion, including reproduction, wiped out numerous animal species, persecuted jews, and gingers, and has abolished religion. Thus wiping out true human nature.

Thus, forcing us to kill Cartman.

**Chapter one: Conference Meeting**

"So tell me Mister, what was it again, ah yes, Mr. Scotch, are you telling me that production on something as easy as making paper is slow. Are you saying I, being so generous, gave you something difficult? I saw you on the street, a beggar, and I took you in, gave you work, and this is what I goddamn get? Excuses! Damn it, I'll give you two days, and if those copies of printer paper aren't complete, I will kill you."

"Yes sir!" replied the man.

"God, I hate these people. Professionals my ass."

The fat child stared at the room, empty and dark, it was melancholy, but the boy liked it. It had been only four months ago, but he accomplished much. Pushing the red button on his intercom he quietly asked,

"Judy, can you send me the report on the Viking II's expedition to the Orion Nebula?"

"Right away, sir."

Pushing the button again, he asked, "Oh, and Judy, could you please send a copy on the morning report."

"Yes, sir."

Laying back, Cartman relaxed, _at ease he thought._ After receiving the reports, he began to skim the words. First, the Viking's report, he thought.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Orion Nebula

Unusual radio frequencies, near the Orion Belt. Belt seems to be in T-Tauri State. Viking took minimal damage, but engine was hit. Other units on/out of Viking took minimal damage as well. Two men died. One from collision with an asteroid while fixing hull, other died due to being homesick, in addition, three men suffered injuries on expedition to unknown planet. One man suffered broken bones on the legs, rib cage, and brain cavity, one from a broken arm, and another broke his spine, rendering him useless, and in a vegetative state

Unusual frequencies in Orion Belt seem to be using binary, or otherwise Morse Code. Beats come ever 2 seconds. Other than the stated above, nothing interfered the mission.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Goddamn it!"

He began reading the other report when suddenly from the intercom, a security guard roared, "Boss, there's an intruder, but its coming from sector 2."

"Sector 2?" Eric mumbled.

And all of a sudden, a boy, the same age as Eric, crashed out of a window, brandishing a knife, he lunged at Eric.

"Die you fat pig!"

After several seconds, recognition slowly sinked in, causing Eric to stand there, shocked.

"You! I thought you died!"

"And this is where you are wrong."


	2. Resistance

**Chapter 2: Resistance**

"You thought those petty guard dogs could kill me? You really thought I could just die? You, are the most idiotic bastard ever, how should you know what happened," cried the Mole.

"Well, if those dogs didn't kill you, I will," Eric laughed.

"You? Kill me? I laugh at you fatboy."

"That's it. Let the anger out, but as you can see, I'm in control. I will kill you, not your way, but my way."

Eric pulled out a rusty pipe, lowering it; he quickly disarmed the Mole, and took a swift blow towards the Mole's head.

"If you think that was it, I'm just starting."

Eric drew back the pipe, this time he repeatedly crashed the pipe on the Mole's head, until the room splattered with blood, the body, horribly disfigured, and then Eric laughed like a madman.

* * *

"Get him out of there!"

"I'm sorry Stan, he's got no pulse. He's dead."

"But Wendy," Stan cried.

"Its to late for anything Stan. We might as well let him die in the way he wanted."

"To die trying to kill _him?_ That's what he wanted?"

"He wanted revenge," Wendy replied solemnly, "I'm sorry."

Suddenly, the front door on the clubhouse swung open. The clubhouse, meeting spot of the resistance, was an old shed made with wood, but was expanded many times, now able to hold 100 children. An old cobble stone road connected the abandoned shed with civilization.

"I'm sorry I was late," Kyle said.

"No problem, but we've got some news for you," replied Stan.

"What?"

"Well, at about 15:00 in military time, the Mole had successfully infiltrated Eric's compound with his squad. After running into guards, the Mole's group separated. At 18:00, or 6:00, the Mole had broken into sector 2 of the compound. Eric then proceeded to kill him in a gruesome fashion. The rest of the Mole's group went missing soon later," Wendy stated.

"That bastard!" Kyle yelled.

"Well, now that you're here, we better get the meeting started."

* * *

"Now that we are all here, let us begin the meeting," announced Gregory, "As you know, the Mole was killed during a covet assassination attempt against the fat ass. Today, we discuss other options to delay, or even kill him?"

A timid hand shot up, shaking, but nevertheless, up.

"Yes, Ike?"

"Well, why don't we get someone to work for Eric. Someone on the inside, and then when he least expects it, we all, and I mean ALL, jump in the windows, capture him, and take him as prisoner."

Blank faces stared across the room, accompanied by laughter.

"I'm sorry Ike, but our Chinese branch had tried the idea, for it seemed like a good one to, but it ended in failure, causing China to be nuked," Gregory replied melancholy.

"Good riddance," someone had commented.

"Any others?"

Several hands jumped.

"Ok, Token?"

"Can I go home?"

"Token, do you think this is a game? Do you think we are risking our lives for fun? This is serious. We need men who will fight in what is right. We need justice and order in this dying world. We-"

"Oh shut up, Greg. God, so I think this is a game! I'm leaving!"

"Greg, don't worry about him," Kyle whispered.

"Ya, let's continue the meeting shall we," Stan added.

* * *

Meanwhile, in a dark room, Eric sat down with a familiar face. He stared at the child, feeling disgusted. He began relaying instructions to child, hoping this would teach the resistance a lesson.

"Ok you know what to do right? Just push the trigger when you get there. When you do, you'll be dead, but then that will signal our troops to storm in. Got it?"

Through his jacket, his muffled answer was, "Yes sir!"

"Good."

Eric left the clone in the room alone. He walked down the corridor, entered the farthest door, and entered a world of darkness. In the middle of the room, was a child, strapped in a chair, in a vegetative coma, his eyes, staring blankly at the walls, his whole body, dirty, and disgusting. Staring at him, Eric felt content, and chuckled.

"Do you remember the good times we had as children? Children without a single care of the world? I always felt you were my best friend. All those times I said I hate you, I really didn't. I'm sorry I have to do this to you, but its good business, isn't it Kenny?"


	3. War Zone 101

**

* * *

**

Chapter 3: War Zone 101

**Disclaimer: This chapter is told in Stan's POV. I will change POV in different chapters. **

* * *

"War has changed."

"War, war never changes."

Two of the most famous war quotes of all time. Each focuses on the literal concept of war, its consumption of life, and why they fight, but the mind of a veteran can be represented in either of these statements. A cold, and hard veteran still retains the guilt that is achieved through common sense; knowing that they ended the life of a man. By killing a man in the battlefield, you not only end their lives, but also bring sorrow, and pain towards their loved ones. It is never realized by the solider that their enemies also have families. This consumption of life, this sin among man, has never changed, so to the guilt.

However, the veteran can to lack the sense of this knowledge, leading in a mass murderer without consent. In many cases, the death of fellow comrades can shape a man into a monster. Through experience comes knowledge of the battlefield, and as another quote,

"He who controls the battlefield, controls history as we know it."

This concept of war is a controversial one, indefinitely meaning that the battlefield is the grave, and he who dies first is at peace, for the veteran who lives, lives with guilt, and insanity. He who survives the war is no longer man, but returns to civilization as a machine, as a murderer, as a witness to death. The question remains as what are we fighting for? For freedom? Liberty? Is the price of man's life truly worth these goals? This has been the unanswered question, but for many who fight feel justified, and calm because of these reasons.

And here we are today, fighting for what we believe in, for what has been lost, for what should be returned.

* * *

Wielding my M5A2 Carbine, I noticed towards the room of one of the barracks three men, snipers, I realized. I ran towards two wooden crates, taking cover, I aimed at the snipers, killing them with the grenade launcher. Lying on the boxes, I stared at the scene, analyzing the battlefield.

My squad had taken control of a storage unit, taking cover, and refuge inside. However, the goal was to take out the whole area, an oil field. By stopping the flow of oil, Eric's economic status would lower, further weakening his reign.

I moved out, sprinting towards an AA Gun that was destroying our air units, preparing to plant a charge. Tension increased, and sweat flowed down my face, like a river, I thought. When I reached the gun, I realized to my dismay that our group of 40 strong had sadly dwindled to 20, and even worse, we were surrounded.

Helicopters surrounded the area, on board were snipers, and spectators assisting the battle. I had planted the charge, rolled out just in time before the gun exploded. I was bruised but nothing worse than that. I took out my radio, and once again, took cover behind crates.

"Wendy, this is Stan, do you repeat? Wendy?"

"Ya, what's the situation?"

"Don't say that. People only say that in movies, besides, you goddamn chipped me before this, you know perfectly well what's happening."

"Sorry," Wendy laughed through the radio, "So what do you need?"

"I just took out the Anti-Air Gun, send reinforcements pronto."

"Ok!"

Within minutes F-16s came, and shot down the helicopters, allowing reinforcements to arrive. After regrouping, we as a whole squad stormed the main building, and eradicated it. Soon after, we split into groups, to allow us to search for lonely enemy infantry, and control the surrounding area. My division was to clear an oil refinery, but we heard voices soon entering the building. Searching the building revealed the door were the voices where heard. Opening the door revealed two prisoners, and an enemy gunner. We dispatched the gunman, freed the prisoners, and took over the area.

Blood, and sweat stained the clothes of everyone, and guilt slowly sinked in. Killing was a sin, and we, we children had killed many people today. We saw our own friends die. It was a victory today, but really, it was punishment. After the battle, many cried, others screamed, and soon, we'll all develop post-traumatic stress disorder syndrome.

To clarify, post-traumatic stress disorder syndrome is when those who have spectated a traumatic event, their minds become unstable, where their body becomes insane. As I reiterate, many are now unstable, many children are losing their minds to the price of war. Now, we await orders, awaiting for our next moment to justify the pain.

* * *

"Judy, can you please come in," called Eric as he continued to walk in circles.

"Yes sir," came the reply, a little weird sounding to be Judy, thought Eric.

Footsteps approached the doorway, and the creaks of the handle being turned alerted Eric. Standing in the doorway was a blond haired, fair skinned person. The person was short, dressed in a dress, had curls in the hair that was tied into a ponytail, and wide eyes.

"Yes Eric?"

"Goddamnit Butters!"

"Wha-What Eric?"

"Where's Judy?"

"With her boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" This got Eric's eyebrow to rise, "She has a boyfriend? Who is he?"

"I don't know, she said his name was Jim."

"Jim who?" Eric asked, slightly angry.

"I don't know, ok?"

"Fine. Leave me."

Butters rushed out, shivering, and afraid. He looked back at Eric one more time before running out, closing the door behind him.

"Jim, huh? Well Jim, I'm going to teach you what it means to mess with me," Eric yelled to himself, "When I'm done with you, well you won't even feel a thing."


	4. Who's Jim

**

* * *

**

After the godforsaken battle, many had erupted into cheers, raiding any storage unit for beer or wine. The boys began to drink, and try to die down the day's activities if you put it in this way. However, the post-war period of time isn't about relaxation, it is to survey the area, and wait for orders from a higher command.

"Sir, we have just gained conformation that the oil field was indeed taken. What will our counter be?" stated the servant, looking both ways in anxiety, and fear.

"I'll think about it. Don't pester me now," Eric commanded, shooting a glare at the shriveled man, "Send Butters up to me will you."

"Yes sir."

The man had left the room, rather gladly as well. He hurried straight through the hallway peering in ever doorway in search of Butters. Hate, and rage suddenly filled his mind; shock pulled him back, _What am I thinking, _he thought, _I can't fight him, besides, you have a family, you need this job._

Near the vending machines, he found the blond child playing with several miniature figures, singing a little song.

"There are times when you get suckered in  
By drugs and alchohol and sex with women-mmkay  
But its when you do these things too much  
That you've become an addict and must get back in touch  
You can do it Its all up to you-mmmmmkay  
With a little plan you can change your life tooo-day  
You dont have to spend your life addicted to smack  
Homeless on the streets giving handjobs for crack  
Follow my plan and very soon you will see-eeyy, its easy mmkay

Step 1: Instead of ass say buns, like "kiss my buns" or "you're a buns hole"

Step 2: Instead of shit say poo, as in "bull poo", "poo head" and this "poo is cold"

Step 3: With bitch drop the t because bich is latin for generosity

Step 4: Dont say fuck any more because fuck is the worst word that you can say

So just use the word mmmkay!

We can do it its all up to us-mmmkay (mmmkay)  
With a little plan we can change our lives tooo-day  
you can change it today  
We don't have to spend our lives shootin up in the trash  
Homeless on the streets giving handjobs for cash  
Follow this plan and very soon you will see-eey  
Its easy mmkay!

Step 1: Instead of ass say buns, like kiss my buns or  
you're a buns hole

Step 2: Instead of shit say poo, as in bull poo, poo head and  
this poo is cold

Step 3: With bitch drop the t because bich is latin for  
generosity  
Step 4: Dont say fuck any more  
Cuz fuck is the worst word that you can say  
Fuck is the worst word that you can say  
We shouldn't say fuck, no we shouldn't say fuck, fuck nooooo!!!  
We don't have to spend our lives shootin up in the trash  
homeless on the streets giving handjobs for cash  
Follow this plan and very soon you will saaay  
Its easy mmmkay!  
It's easy mmmkay!  
It's easy mmmkay!  
It's easy mmmkaaaaaaaayy"

The servant stood their puzzled, slowly, a smile broke out, and he began to laugh. His lungs filled incredibly fast, and soon he was on the ground chocking. Butters ran towards him, surprised.

"Oh no! Uhh, what do I do? Oh hamburgers, I'm sorry," Butters cried.

He began to rapidly hit the man in his chest, while inside his head, he hoped he was doing the right thing. The blond haired child abruptly went for mouth to mouth, and the people who surrounded them began to laugh at the duo.

"What are you guys laughing at?" Butters yelped.

Most of the people began to leave, not caring the slightest bit at the dying man. Many snickered, and whispered as they left. _Hamburgers, they're gonna tell everyone, _Butters thought.

Several minutes later, the man had regained conscience although with several spasms of gasp. He sat up, looked around, and hurriedly spoke.

"The master wants you. Its an honor," he gasped, and then he collapsed.

"Ah hamburgers, and why are you talking like this is Assassin's Creed?" Butters cried.

Shrugging, Butters hurried up the hallway, and entered the abyss. Shutting the door, he faced Eric. Eric's face was passive, and impenetrable, so Butters had no idea whether he was mad, or going to give him treat. At that thought, Butters laughed.

"Oh, you think something's funny, Butters?"

"No Eric," Butters said, but he couldn't suppress his grin.

"Seeing how you think this is funny, I'm going to give you an assignment."

"Ah hot dogs!"

Eric began laughing maniacally, calming himself down in a few seconds. He smiled, and croaked, "I want you to integrate Judy, don't let her know who you are, and find out who's Jim. Once you know, report to me pronto."

"Ah man!" replied Butters.

* * *

Several hours later, Butters had dressed as a gangster with the standard red bandana, red T-Shirt, and red shoes. Finding Judy was easy, interrogating her was going to be a bit difficult. He then made his move. Butters had stalked Judy until he arrived at a bar.

"Pink Pig? Sounds like a toyshop! Yippee!" exclaimed Butters.

Entering the building, he was amazed at how disgusting the place was.

"This place is disgusting to be a toy store," Butters told himself.

After locating Judy, a tall, skinny brunette, he waited for hours until Judy had knocked herself out on vodka. Dragging her out of the bar, he took her to an alley, where he waited for hours until she woke up.

"Mmmmhh, where am I?" She asked groggily.

"Oh! Your awake!"

"Oh, its you!"

"Oh hamburgers!"

"What do you want creepo," She roared.

"Umm," He mumbled.

Butters took out a bat, as well as a book entitled How to Torture and Interrogate. Flipping a few pages, he exclaimed, "Ah, here it is. Step 1, hit victim with bat."

"Wait WHAT!" Judy yelled.

Taking a wack at Judy, he said, "Step 2, say shut up bitch. Oh wait, I just did. Ok, step 3, hit victim again."

"Stop!" Judy roared.

"Step 4, ask question, ok. So Judy, who's Jim."

"Jim is-"

'Step 5, if insert name here replies to slow, hit, if a her, on the head, if a man, hit his balls. Judy, are you a man, or a woman?" Butters asked quietly.

"Ok, ok, Jim is…"

* * *

Butters came back towards Eric's office sprinting as fast as he could.

"Eric! Its me! Eric!"

Sighing in annoyance, Eric called, "Yes Butters?"

"Eric, its Jim."

"Well, who's Jim?"

"Jimbo."

"Jimbo? That bastard?"

"Ya,."

"Good, good. Here Butters, a treat," Eric laughed, throwing a doggy biscuit at Butters.

"Thanks Eric," Butters said, nibbling on the biscuit.

"Not yet Butters, you've got one more job."

"Lemme guess, get Jim?"

"And a slushy."

* * *

This time, Butters dressed as a girl having two blond ponytails, a blue, and white checkered dress, dress shoes, and lipstick. Walking up towards Jimbo, Butters began to act like a girl with a broken leg.

"Oh, will anyone help me? Oh please, somebody?"

"Sure little lady. What's wrong," Jimbo asked apprehensively.

"Oh, I think I've broken a leg."

"Here, let me get you a lift to take you to the hospital."

"That won't be needed."

"What?" asked Jimbo, surprised and confused.

"I'm working for Cartman Productions, you're under arrest," Butters yelled, pulling out his plastic badge.

"Why?"

"Why don't you go ask Eric?"

"Don't I get a lawyer or something?"

"No, no you don't," Butters replied, and then he proceeded to kick Jimbo's balls.

"Ow!"

* * *

"Thank you Butters, you can return to your quarters," Eric replied.

"Ok."

Butters left the room, slamming the door behind him, leaving Jimbo, and Eric alone. The tied up man in the center of the room was struggling to get out.

"What'd I ever do?" he asked angrily.

"Jimbo, I will be asking the questions, or do you not respect my –god forbid- authority?"

"Why the hell am I-"

"Do you respect my authority, or not? Don't say the answer out loud, but you know the answer. So, Mr. Kern, I have recently heard of your relationship between you, and a certain Judy am I not mistaken."

"Yes, we're dating, but-"

"That's all I needed to know. I have in my hand three marbles, **three, **and each marble is a decision. One is life, one is death, and the last is torture for life. Choose wisely, it's for your own good."

"I pick this one," Jimbo said, his eyes at the green, fat one.

"Pick it up," Eric commanded, "What does it say?"

Flipping it over, the marble stated life.

"Life."

"Goddamn it! I'm still gonna kill you anyway."

"WHAT!"

Pulling out a PSS silenced pistol, he shoved it up Jimbo's mouth, and asked, "Do you have anything to say. Oh wait, you can't say crap."

Pulling the trigger, Jimbo's brains flew, in pieces as well. Pushing the red button on the intercom, he mumbled, "Judy, send a janitor, we have a mess here."

"Yes sir."

Relaxing on his chair, he said quietly to himself, "Kyle, Kyle, Kyle, its your turn now. Its been too long, I think I should repay you guys a visit, isn't that right. Oh I don't know."

Chapter 4: Who's Jim?

* * *


End file.
